


Bernie and Serena: The Call of The East

by helenlath



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26837260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenlath/pseuds/helenlath
Summary: >Bernie and Serena have retired, married, and begun a new less stressful life together in rural Wales. The first months are idyllic, but then winter approaches and life in the Black Mountain is not quite as charming  as it once seemed. Plus, they have both been driven to return to work, Serena lecturing and Bernie in a local hospital. Bernie's wanderlust re-emerges and she applies for a job on the other side of the world. Will their relationship again be put in jeopardy?
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67





	1. Whither Thou Goest

**Author's Note:**

> Hi lovely people, I've taken a break from Bernie and Serena but with Christmas approaching I couldn't resist writing a bit of Christmas themed Berena fiction.  
> I have written two new stories and added them to the two previous pieces to form one story with the title Bernie and Serena: The call of the East. So, those of you who have already read Whither Thou Goest and Love is a Many Splendoured Thing will need to jump straight to Chapter 3, Love is a many Spledoured Thing Part 2 , and the Chapter 4, All I want for Christmas. New readers, I hope you enjoy the whole work.  
> Happy Christmas.

“Fleur, I really don’t know what’s going on in Bernie’s head.” Serena sighed and rubbed the pendant around her neck with her thumb and forefinger as she was wont to do when anxious.  
“Oh dear,” replied Fleur. “If you don’t know there’s not much hope of anyone else knowing is there? Tell me what’s bothering you though, it might help.”  
Serena was in Holby, lunching with her friend Fleur Fanshawe, having delivered a paper on the latest vascular surgery techniques to a group of final year medical students at the university. Since the publication of her book, “My Life in Surgery” and two the publication of further academic papers she had found herself in demand as a guest lecturer at schools of medicine around the country, initially on-line, but increasingly more often now in person.  
“She’s withdrawn, become distant. Stomps off in the morning to see to her precious sheep, does into the hospital to do her shift, takes the dog over to Roger, our farmer friend for training in the evening then falls into bed exhausted. She doesn’t want me to, er well, get close to her.” Serena frowned with discomfiture.  
“Emotionally?”  
“Yes, that as well.” The penny dropped.  
“You mean that she has gone off sex?” Fleur asked.  
“Yes.”  
“It can happen in a long term relationship,” Fleur said breezily. “Not that I’ve ever been in a relationship long enough to know. But honestly Serena, I’m not surprised if she’s working as hard as you say.”  
“If she admitted to me how tired she is I could help, but each time I mention the subject she becomes defensive. She seems to resent the fact that I’m working mostly at home. We did discuss both going back to work at the hospital to help clear the back-log of routine surgery which has built up during the pandemic. She was really keen. We decided jointly that I wouldn’t; the autumn term had just begun and my lecturing was starting to take off. Plus I did my fair share of hospital work earlier, in Nairobi and then Cornwall. The NHS is going to be desperately short of doctors after all this is over so I feel I’m doing my bit this time around by teaching.”  
“I’m sure that a lot of couples are struggling with the same issues,” Fleur reassured her. “You won’t get any answers by brooding, Serena, you need to talk, find out what is troubling her and tell her what you feel. I doubt there’s reason for concern. Relationships as strong as yours don’t suddenly go awry. I’ve watched the pair of you over overcoming hurdle after hurdle. She would never have recovered so quickly from her ordeal in Somalia without your love. I saw how ecstatically happy you both were at your wedding six months ago. Get back home, pay her some attention and ask her straight out what the problem is.”  
“I expect you are right.” Serena picked up her glass and downed the remains of the Shiraz. She looked at her watch. “It’s been marvellous to catch up Fleur, but I should be going. I promised Jason that I would look in before I set off back to Wales.” She signalled to the waitress for the bill.  
“You go, I’ll settle up,” Fleur said.  
“Thankyou.” Serena leant forward and kissed Fleur on the cheek.  
“My pleasure,” Fleur responded. “Off you go. Give the delightful Guinevere a kiss from me. And talk to Bernie.” Serena moved towards the door.  
“Oh, Serena, one other thing!” Serena stopped and half turned towards Fleur. “If the Major doesn’t recover her appetite you know where to come!”  
#  
Meanwhile Major Bernie Wolfe RAMC (retired) was checking her emails anxiously. Still no reply. Disappointment and relief hung in equal balance. Disappointment because this was an opportunity she really wanted to grasp; relief because Serena was not going to be happy.  
Bernie sat at the scrubbed pine table in the large kitchen of the farmhouse which she and Serena had bought almost a year previously. Tired of the rat race, the short-comings of the National Health Service, and in Bernie’s case, the strains of military life, they had uprooted themselves and moved to the Black Mountains of Wales. Throughout spring and summer Bernie had been idyllically happy, tending the flock of sheep which had come with the farmhouse and training her Welsh Collie pup, Colin. Together, she and Serena had hosted groups of walkers, climbers and canoeists in the bunkhouse attached to the farm. Their wedding, celebrated in the barn, had been the icing on the cake.  
Since the onset of autumn and the second wave of the Covid 19 virus Bernie had put in shifts at the local hospital. Almost inevitably she had contracted the virus, though she had displayed only minor symptoms. Once she had recovered and her and Serena’s period of isolation was over she had thought no more of it. Until now.  
With the shortening days and the inevitable wet mountain weather Bernie had been feeling  
more and more lethargic. Her legs were heavy and it was an effort to pull on her wellingtons and tend to her flock. She dragged herself out of bed in the mornings with difficulty and at night when she fell into bed the only thing on her mind was sleep. It did cross her mind that the fatigue was a result of the virus, the Long Covid, as it was called. On top of the physical weariness, however, there was a general dissatisfaction. The routine surgery in which she was currently engaged was a far cry from the vital trauma surgery she excelled in and she found the work tedious. In addition, despite not being a particularly social animal she found herself longing for more excitement than the village offered and harboured some resentment towards Serena who regularly dashed off to give a lecture. Finally, Bernie loved the sun, a commodity in short supply at this time of year in the Black Mountains. In short, Bernie wondered whether the impulsive move to Wales had all been a mistake.  
She was just about to close her laptop when the email she had been awaiting appeared at the top of the screen. Bernie’s heart gave a little leap of joy. Her head thought “Oh no. How am I going to tell her?”  
#  
Bernie watching a film on Netflix when she heard the door open and Serena’s voice call, “Hello darling, I’m home.” Bernie padded through from the sitting room.  
“Hello. How was your trip? I’m afraid I haven’t cooked. Sorry. There’s pizza in the freezer.”  
“It doesn’t matter. Pizza for supper is fine. I had lunch with Fleur and cake with Jason and Greta. Guinevere is so big now. They all send their love to Auntie Bernie.” Bernie gave a half smile. “The lecture on the endovascular repair of abdominal aortic aneurysms was well received,” Serena continued. “I think I’ll have a bath before supper.”  
“Okay.” Remembering Fleur’s advice Serena looked Bernie full on and asked, “Will you join me?”  
“Sorry what was that?” asked Bernie. She looked ready to bolt.  
“I asked you to join me in the bath,” Serena repeated. “Oh Bernie, come here.” Her low velvety voice caused Bernie’s stomach to somersault despite her anxiety. She moved slowly into Serena’s arms and laid chin on Serena’s shoulder.  
“Oh Serena, I’m sorry I’ve been such a miserable old bag lately. I don’t know whether it’s Seasonal Affective Disorder or this long- covid thing. It’s nothing to do with you, us, I mean.”  
“I know. Don’t worry darling, it will be alright.” Bernie wasn’t so sure.  
#  
One hot deep, fragrant bath after which Bernie had allowed herself to be led by the hand to the king-sized bed, Serena lay on the bed and drew Bernie towards her, running her fingers the length of her spine. Bernie shivered and melted into Serena’s body, wrapped her legs around Serena’s thigh and held her tight.  
“So nice,” she murmured. “Sorry I’ve been so unenthusiastic recently. It’s not that I’ve gone off you, I’ve just felt so tired.”  
“I know. But I’ve missed you. Missed this.” Bernie felt tears prick her eyelids. She loved Serena so much and feared that she was going to hurt her yet again.  
#  
Bodies satisfied, replete with pizza and mellowed with Shiraz Bernie and Serena reclined on the sofa warmed by the radiating heat of the log burner.  
“It’s good to be home,” Serena said, slipping her hand into Bernie’s. “Darling, I was thinking, driving home in the car, I’ve been selfish. I’ve been so caught up in all the excitement of this new lecturing career I haven’t realised how it’s affected you. I know that it was only meant to be an occasional commitment but things have snowballed rather I’ve left you alone here more than we anticipated. I’ll learn how to say no, I promise.”  
“It’s good that you’ve found yourself a new career,” Bernie replied softly. “It’s what you need. It’s what we both need, in fact. We’re not yet in our mid-fifties, Serena, and we have so many years of experience to offer to medicine. I know we were both happy to step back and move here for a quieter life but that doesn’t mean we have to stagnate completely.”  
“Is that how you see us, stagnating?”  
“In a way. Don’t get me wrong, I love the outdoor life, looking after the sheep, going to market, learning how to work Colin. Yet I’m still a surgeon, always will be. Being back in the hospital environment carrying out routine procedures has made me realise how much I miss being involved in cutting edge trauma surgery.”  
“I’m sure it has.”  
“I’ve been worried that this tiredness and lack of libido had a physical cause, Long-Covid or something more sinister.”  
“Why on earth didn’t you tell me?”  
“Didn’t want to worry you,” Bernie muttered.  
“That’s what wives are for.”  
“I’m telling you now,” Bernie said, “so please listen.”  
“I’m all ears darling.” Bernie took a deep breath.  
“Okay. I’ve had a check up. There is nothing wrong with me physically.”  
“ Thank goodness.”  
“Shush, listen. If it’s not my body it must be my head. The hospital work I’m doing bores me and the prospect of winter depresses me. I started looking for vacancies in trauma surgery. One particular job leapt out at me, gave me that buzz of excitement. It’s heading up the trauma unit in a brand new state of the art hospital.”  
“It sounds just up your street. Where is it?”asked Serena. Bernie sighed heavily.  
“Hong Kong,” she said.  
#  
Both Serena and Bernie slept fitfully, Serena in the King-sized bed and Bernie in the spare-room divan, to where she had been banished by an angry Serena. Bernie had expected Serena to be upset but she had reckoned without the full force of Serena’s anger. She hadn’t given Bernie chance to explain any further what she had in mind.  
Serena on her part was scared. After everything, Bernie’s disappearing first to Kiev, then Nairobi, the long months of separation. Bernie had promised that her adventuring was behind her, that she wanted to settle down with Serena. And now she was reneging on that promise. Serena wept angry tears into the pillow that still held Bernie’s delicious scent.  
Bernie remembered Serena’s pleas when she had decided to go to Kiev, the stilted text messages, the realisation that she was desperately in love with Serena Wendy Campbell. That love hadn’t curtailed her wanderlust, however, and she had left her again and again, the final time with disastrous results. Yet Serena had remained faithful.  
“I really don’t deserve her love,” Bernie groaned into her pillow, “but she could have least have listened.”  
#  
By the time Serena came downstairs the following morning Bernie’s wellingtons had gone from their place by the kitchen door. Serena made coffee with a heavy heart. She feared that she had behaved unreasonably, barring Bernie from her own bedroom. That was the punishment she had meted out to Edward when she discovered his infidelity and Bernie hadn’t behaved nearly as badly. Not badly at all, in fact. She was perfectly entitled to further her career; marriage didn’t equate with ownership.  
Bernie stomped into the kitchen and levered off her boots.  
“Bernie, I’m sorry,” Serena began.  
“I need to shower and get to the hospital,” Bernie replied briskly. “I trust I can use our en-suite.” She disappeared upstairs without waiting for a reply. She reappeared fifteen minutes later, hair still deliciously damp, and headed straight for the door.  
“Coffee?” asked Serena.  
“I’ll get some at the hospital.”  
“Do I get a kiss?” Serena asked needily.  
Bernie planted a kiss on Serena’s cheek. “See you later,” she muttered. Serena touched her cheek, still tingling from the feel of Bernie’s lips.  
#  
Serena’s phone buzzed. “How’s the Major?” asked Fleur. “Did you talk?”  
“Yes.”  
“And?”  
“She wants to go to Hong Kong!”  
“Wow, that will be exciting for you both. I take it you are going with her.”  
“That was never mentioned. I’m rather afraid, Fleur, that I blew it and ended up sending her to the spare room to sleep.”  
“You really are an idiot at times, Serena.”  
#  
After a morning spent on run-of-the-mill surgical procedures Bernie took her sandwich and coffee into the hospital garden. Though the air was chilly the previous day’s rain had ceased and Bernie needed the fresh air. Her concentration during the morning had been solely on her patients but now her thoughts turned to Serena.  
“Penny for them. May I join you?” Before Bernie could reply the lead nurse from the orthopaedic ward had sat down beside her. “I was pretty impressed with the work you did on that femur yesterday.”  
“Thanks.”  
“I gather you worked in trauma surgery. In fact, a little bird told me that you are one of the country’s best trauma surgeons, if not the best.” Bernie shrugged diffidently.  
“What are you doing just carrying out these routine ops? You must be bored stiff.”  
“I kind of retired, moved here with my partner, my wife, actually. I just stepped in here to help alleviate the build up of operations because of Covid and all the restrictions. It’s only temporary.”  
“I see. Anything else in mind?”  
“I have actually. Head of Trauma surgery in a brand new hospital in Hong Kong.”  
“Wow! That sounds great. You’ll both love it. Your wife is going with you?”  
“I hope so. But I don’t know,” Bernie replied. “I think I have to make it clear that I need her  
with me. I didn’t get chance last night.”  
#  
Serena spent the morning working on an article for The Lancet. While she wrote Tom the cat lay on the window sill bathing in sunshine while Colin snoozed in his basket. After a quick lunch Serena decided to take Colin for his afternoon walk. The pup snapped instantly from an inert ball to a quivering mass of excitement as soon as he heard his lead being taken from its hook on the door.  
“Come on then,” Serena said to him. Since Bernie had taken the hospital job Serena had found herself taking on more of Colin’s care and was becoming increasingly fond of the animal. They set off up the lane. After ten minutes they passed the last cottage in the lane, which now narrowed to a track. Serena released Colin and he bounded of, sniffing the verge for the scent of rabbits. The track took them up the hillside to where Bernie’s sheep grazed. It really was peaceful. Why on earth was Bernie so dissatisfied? What was the attraction of Hong Kong?  
“Oh dear, Colin,” she said to the dog, “I was so angry I didn’t really give her chance to explain.”  
The circular walk took them passed the house of Roger, the former owner of Bernie and Serena’s farmhouse. He was gardening and waved as he saw them. “Nice day now the rain has blown over,” he called. Colin scuttled over to say hello to Meg, his mother, Colin’s former sheepdog, now in retirement. Colin opened the latched gate and fondled Colin’s ears.  
“He’s grown into a fine dog. I’ll enjoy having him to stay for a few months.”  
“Sorry?”  
“While you and Bernie are away in Hong Kong. She asked me if I’d take Colin and look after the sheep and the cat and keep an eye on the house for you. I’d be happy to, after all it was my home and my flock before you two bought them.”  
“Oh, I see. I knew about Hong Kong. She didn’t mention what she would do about the animals. I really don’t know, Roger, I’ve just started lecturing. I don’t really want to give it up. I thought Bernie was happy here.”  
“She is happy. Most of the time,” Roger said sagely, “but she’s a very intelligent woman and by your own admission a first class surgeon with a global reputation. She needs to feed that that part of her soul as well.”  
“I suppose so. She ran away from me two, three times before, Roger. I feel I’m not enough for her at times.”  
“None of us can be everything to person we love. We each need to preserve the person we were before we met. And we can’t change one another. That’s a bit of advice my dear mother gave me. ‘Roger,’ she said, ‘don’t ever marry thinking you can change that person. Marry them prepared to accept them as they are.’ A wise old bird was my mother.”  
“Your Mother was right Roger,” Serena said, “but you know it’s easier said than done. But I’ll try.” She turned to go, but Roger stopped her.  
“Strikes me,” he said, “that with all this technology we’ve got, you can lecture from anywhere. Another thing, I know as you’re not a churchgoer and what you believe or don’t believe is your own business, but just for once, pop into the church on the way and have a look on the window halfway down on the left. It might just help.”  
“Hmm,” said Serena sceptically, “I doubt it.”  
#  
She didn’t call into the church on the way home. Instead she checked on the flock to save Bernie the bother later, threw some logs into the wood burner and put a casserole into the Aga.  
She changed her clothes, combed her hair, slicked on some lipstick and waited for the sound of Bernie’s car. When at last she heard the crunch of the tyres on the gravel she flew out of the door and ran to Bernie.  
“I am so sorry,” she gasped. “I flew off the handle last night. I shouldn’t have done. I asked you to talk and then as soon as I didn’t like what you said I got angry. It was indefensible of me.”  
Bernie took her in her arms and smoothed her hair. “It doesn’t matter. Didn’t we once say that love is defending the indefensible? Whatever I’m feeling about myself and my life, it has no bearing on how much I love you. It’s simply that in the same way that you are driven to share your experience lecturing to medical students, I feel driven to carry on trauma surgery, despite loving this, and everything we have here. “Bernie swept her arms expansively to include the house, fields and mountains.”I’ll always come back here, Serena. In any case, I never intended to go alone. If you could bear to leave your lecturing for six months, which is the length of the contract while Mr Li Chan is in The States, I want you to come with me.”  
“I know,” Serena said in a small voice. “I spoke to Roger. Bernie, do you think there is enough light left to in the church? He told me to go and look at one of the windows.”  
“Will it be unlocked?”  
“It’s open until it gets dark. Come with me.”  
#  
Serena turned the ring of the Norman church with its squat Saxon tower. The setting sun cast its light through the windows on the western side. The majority of the windows were plain but half way down the window retained its stained glass depicting various biblical scenes. The bottom left hand corner showed two women, a road disappearing into the horizon, and the words, “Whither thou goest I will go; and where thou lodgest I will lodge.”  
“That’s beautiful,” breathed Serena.  
“It’s Ruth and Naomi,” said Bernie, “Ruth’s promise of fidelity. Believe it or not, I was very good at Religious Knowledge at school. I think that verse finishes ‘Where thou diest, I will die.’ I’m not really a believer but I can’t fault those sentiments.”  
“Me neither.” Serena took Bernie’s hand and led her out of the church. “Let’s go home. You can fill me in on the details of this hospital. Then afterward,” her voice dropped to a low purr, “I think, Major Wolfe, that another bath and an early night are in order.”  
“Absolutely,” drawled Bernie. “I believe, Ms Serena Wendy Campbell, that my libido might be returning.”


	2. Love is A many Splendoured Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary:  
> Bernie and Serena have arrived in Hong Kong to head up the new trauma unit at one of the major hospitals. Surprised to find the Hong Kong establishment not as open to the notion of same sex marriage Serena makes a hasty decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> The previous chapter, Whither Thou Goest, left Bernie and Serena planning to fly to Hong Kong. I've been a while wondering how to follow this up. Then I came across the 1952 autobiographical novel A Many-Splendoured Thing by Han Suyin (adapted for the 1955 film Love Is a Many Splendoured Thing). The novel tells the story of a married but separated American reporter who falls in love with Eurasian doctor, originally from China, only to encounter prejudice from her family and from Hong Kong Society.

Serena Campbell raised her eyebrows. “I see,” she said slowly, “or rather, I don’t see.”  
“It’s okay Serena, it’s fine,” Bernie interrupted her.  
“But it’s not fine,” Serena insisted. She felt a rush of bravado; nothing would prevent her from declaring to the world her love for this amazing woman who was now her wife. Bernie blushed as Serena continued stridently, “I really don’t see that it’s anyone’s business but ours!”  
“You are quite correct,” Mr Owen Tam said soothingly. “It is no-one’s business but your own. However, although same-sex marriages contracted legally in other countries are recognized under Hong Kong law for tax purposes the establishment attitude reflects the fact that same-sex marriage is neither legal nor recognized. As a private hospital we rely on the financial support and backing of the financial sector which is particularly conservative. We are also under scrutiny from the mainland Chinese government which is gradually extending more and more influence. You would be well advised not to advertise within the hospital that you are, in fact wife and, er wife.”Mr Tam gave a delicate cough.  
“Then I’m afraid that I will have to reconsider my position,” declared Serena, remembering her fight with the Holby City Hospital Board in support of the porters. She had stood her ground for Jason, now she would do the same for herself and Bernie. “I am really not prepared to live a lie.”  
“You are not being asked to,” the CEO of High Peak Hospital reassured her, “just to be discreet.”  
“That amounts to the same thing,” retorted Serena stubbornly. “Goodbye Mr Tam.” Owen Tan watched Serena’s departing back as she left the room.  
“Oh dear,” he sighed, “I’m sorry Ms Wolfe, what are we to do now?”  
#  
“Serena, what on earth was that all about?” demanded Bernie an hour or so later as she pushed open the door to their Mid-Levels apartment.  
“You know what it was all about,” Serena said levelly. “It took me half a century to realise that I am gay. Once I had accepted the fact I decided not to waste a minute more of my life denying it. I’m not going to start now.”  
“You don’t have to deny it,” Bernie insisted. “You heard what Owen said. It’s simply that in the hospital we keep quiet about it. Certainly about being married. For the sake of our careers. It’s a very conservative hospital board; there aren’t the same ant-discrimination laws here as we are used to back home. We want this trauma unit to be a success, don’t we? We don’t want to risk problems with finance or staffing because a couple of stuffy board members are prejudiced.”  
Serena shook her head sadly, “Oh Bernie, I know that you hushed up your affair with a fellow soldier for the sake of your career but you’re not in the army now.”  
Bernie flushed. “That’s unfair, Serena. It wasn’t just my career; I was trying so hard not to hurt Marcus and the children.” She turned her back on Serena and pushed open the glass door onto the balcony. Serena sank onto the smart black leather sofa with a sigh.  
Why couldn’t she have kept quiet? She knew the answer. She loved Bernie. She had done ever since the day the much feted Major Wolfe had swanned into Holby Trauma Unit with her messy hair and annoyingly military manner. Although Serena hadn’t realised it until that first kiss, which had unleashed months of suppressed passion and suddenly made crystal clear why her friend Bernie had was so often in her thoughts. That realisation had been followed by months of misunderstandings and separations, months of anguish until finally Bernie had proposed. Serena was never going to hide her devotion to Bernie ever again.  
Since their engagement and subsequent marriage the pair had lived quietly and idyllically in a remote farmhouse in Wales. “We should never have left there,” Serena groaned. “Why did I agree to this harebrained idea?” She knew the answer, of course. “Because Bernie wanted it.” And she would do anything to make Bernie happy wouldn’t she?  
Bernie hung over the balcony rail taking in the panoramic of Victoria Harbour. She was cross with Serena, and bitterly disappointed with herself for being a coward. She really should have stood in solidarity with Serena, but when it came to the push she cared more about her career than her marriage. She would rather fit in easily with this hospital, make a good impression and leave her mark on the new trauma unit than stand in unison with her wife. She felt sick at heart. She was a walking disaster, whatever she attempted she always messed up somehow. What were they doing here in Hong Kong anyway? Why couldn’t she have been content to stay in Wales stitching up minor injuries instead of dragging Serena halfway across the world in pursuit of adventure and one final feather in her career cap? These and similar thoughts flew around in Bernie’s head until she felt Serena’s hand on her back. The touch quieted her thoughts.  
“Bernie,” Serena began, “I’m sorry, perhaps I over-reacted.”  
“Perhaps you are right and I do value my career above relationships.”  
Serena wrapped her arm around Bernie’s waist. “I’m far too self righteous. Also perhaps I haven’t given enough thought to the implications of living in a foreign country. What did Owen Tam say after I’d left?”  
“ That he would be sorry not to have you on board with your reputation for both surgery and academic research but that it doesn’t affect my position of setting up new trauma unit. I assured him that I am capable of doing unit alone but I’d much rather have you beside me, Serena.”  
“I know darling” replied Serena,  
“So will you join me?”  
“I don’t like the idea of pretending that we are just good friends.”  
“It ‘s only for a few months and as soon as the unit is up and running we can head back to Wales and Colin.”  
“And Tom.” Serena reminded her.  
“Not forgetting Tom.”  
“Friends again?” Serena asked Bernie.  
“I suppose so,” was the grudging reply, before she was silenced by Serena's lips.  
To be continued


	3. Love is a Many Splendoured Thing part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Serena find their feet in Hong Kong. A street accident gives them a taste of a public hospital and meeting a young couple whose parents disapprove of their relationship gives Serena opportunity to reflect.

Temple Street Market was a kaleidoscope of colour. Bernie and Serena wandered amongst the multitudinous stalls selling cheap clothes, underwear in garishly coloured synthetics, bags, belts, cosmetics and cheap souvenirs.  
Surrounding the trading area were smoky shacks, with upturned crates serving as seats and tables, serving dishes such as fried pigs’ intestine and chicken feet. Sad fish and crabs wallowed – it could hardly be called swimming – in murky tanks, roasted geese strung up on wires above. Elderly men in too-large suits and teenagers in black leather perched on the crates and picked at these delicacies with chopsticks, surrounded by signs advertising “Gentleman Paradise” and “Erotic Foot Massage”.  
“Oh that’s interesting,” said Serena, reading some of the flyers pasted onto a lamppost at the end of one market aisle. The flyers were in Chinese script with a badly worded English translation at the bottom referring mostly to massage parlours with the exception of one. “Club 71,” Serena read aloud, “Victoria Mall, Tuesdays 7.30.”  
“What about Tuesdays 7.30?”  
“Meeting of the Hong Kong Tongzhi community, it’s what we would call the LGBT community.”  
“Ah, right,” Bernie hesitated. She really wasn’t one for joining groups. “Does that interest you?” Really, with Serena’s outburst in Owen Tam’s office and now this!   
“It isn’t just tonghzi meeting place,” Serena explained further, “Club 71 is known for being a meeting place for artist and activists. I just thought that if we are going to be here for some months it would be good to make some social contacts; let’s face it, most of our colleagues and neighbours seem married with families, very pleasant but not really up for a wild night out!”  
“Is that what you want? A wild night out?”   
Serena gave a little skip, “We are in Hong Kong!”  
“Does that mean that you have decided to stay?” Serena kissed her in reply.   
#  
A squeal of brakes and the sound of shattering china made them break apart and turn to where the sound had come from. At the market entrance a buckled motor scooter lay on the ground, wheels still spinning. A slight figure in leathers lay on the ground, a small knot of people gathered around. Bernie and Serena ran to the scene of the accident.   
“Stand back, we’re doctors,” Bernie shouted as they approached. The group watched with interest but remained still. Bernie pushed her way between two onlookers and knelt beside the figure. “Don’t remove the helmet,” she yelled at someone who seemed to be about to do precisely that.   
A man emerged from the crowd and urged the crowd to stand back before joining Bernie and Serena. “The market traders come from all over, “he explained, “many from the New Territories close to the border with mainland China. There isn’t much English spoken there.” He dropped to his knees beside the rider and spoke a few soothing words in Cantonese.  
“She’ll be alright, won’t she?” he asked urgently, “I’ll call an ambulance. His fingers were trembling as he punched the buttons on his phone. He spoke brusquely again to the onlookers before turning his attention to the operator on the end of the phone line. The crowd melted away.  
Meanwhile Bernie had opened the scooter rider’s jacket and loosened the zip on the jeans revealing the body of a young girl. She gently palpated her stomach. “There’s internal bleeding,” she said, noticing distinct signs of bruising around the girl’s navel, “but I don’t know where from. What do you think, Serena?” Serena knelt beside her and felt the bruised area. The girl groaned. “Could be the spleen.”  
“That’s what I thought.” Bernie took the girl’s wrist. “Her pulse is very slow. Where is that blasted ambulance?”  
“The response time should be twelve minutes,” their assistant told them, “but there is a protest blocking Nathan Road. She’ll be alright won’t she? Her name is Suzie, by the way.”  
“You know her?”  
“Yes. I’m afraid that it is my scooter she was riding. I lent it to her. She was bringing it back. I’d arranged to meet her in Costa.” Opposite, in complete contrast to the market, was a glass fronted Costa coffee shop. “I saw her come off; the cobbles are slippery, she took the corner too quickly.” He brushed away a tear. “My name is Adrian, by the way.”   
Suzie began to gasp and her breathing became shallower. Bernie and Serena looked at one another. “No,” Serena said, reading Bernie’s thoughts, “we can’t, not here,” but Bernie had already pulled her Swiss army knife from her pocket. “I see,” Serena muttered, “we are.” She delved into her bag and retrieved from its depths a ballpoint pen from which she stripped the outer casing. A small bottle of anti-bacterial hand gel served as sterilizer. Bernie made an expert incision while Serena inserted the makeshift tracheometry tube. Suzie’s breathing became immediately less laboured.  
“Wow,” said Adrian admiringly. At that moment the wail of a siren came into hearing. Two paramedics leapt down from the vehicle.   
“We’re doctors,” Bernie explained the emergency tracheotomy. “She has bruising on the abdomen due to internal bleeding, possibly from the spleen. Her blood pressure is low. Where will you take her?”  
“Queen Elizabeth’s.” The paramedics were by now rolling Suzie onto a stretcher.   
“How do we get there?”   
“It’s easy. Go out of the market to Nathan Road, cross over and take any of the roads on the right. You’ll see it sign posted.”   
“Thankyou. Come on Serena. We need to make sure that she’s alright. Thanks for your help Adrian.”  
As the ambulance siren began to wail once more Bernie and Serena set of in pursuit.   
#  
Nathan Road Public Hospital was a far cry from the luxurious private clinic at South Point. Nevertheless it had a good reputation and the largest accident ad emergency department in Kowloon. Bernie and Serena rushed through the double doors and were about to ask for Suzie’s whereabouts when they saw her lying on a trolley. Her helmet had been removed to reveal short, spiky hair and delicate features. She looked barely old enough to be riding a motor scooter. The pen casing had been replaced with a surgical tube and she was being administered oxygen.  
“Why is she still on a trolley, she is an emergency,” Bernie demanded of a nearby nursing sister.  
“She is waiting for a CT. Unfortunately we do not have one free at the moment. We have had a number of casualties from the protest march. The police used tear gas and batons.”  
“I understand, but why wait for a scan? Why not open her up and find out where the bleeding is coming from.”  
“We don’t have a surgeon available at the moment either.”  
“For goodness sake, if it is her spleen the sooner it is repaired the more chance there is saving it and keeping her off medication.”  
“I’m sorry, what qualifies you to dictate treatment.”  
Quick as a flash Bernie produced her BMC card. " Major Wolfe, Royal Army Medical Corps, trauma surgeon. This is Serena Campbell, vascular surgeon, also registered with the GMC and we have both recently been granted licences to practice in Hong Kong. If you find us a theatre and an anaesthetist and give us the necessary papers to sign we’ll do whatever is necessary.” Serena groaned.   
“This is very irregular!” the nursing sister protested. Serena could see the determination in Bernie’s eyes. “We have recently been appointed to develop and run a trauma unit at Glan Usk,” she said silkily. “I’m sure that if you contact Mr Tam, the CEO, he will verify who we are.”   
“Mr Tam? Glan Usk” the sister snorted. “Private hospitals like Glan Usk are the reason that we are short of surgeons in the public hospitals. The public sector can’t offer nearly as high a salary as the private sector.” She regained her composure and said reluctantly. “I’ll speak to my superiors and get the emergency doctors’ paperwork for you to sign. The scrub room is along that corridor. You’ll find clean scrubs hanging up.”  
Bernie all but high fived Serena.  
“Ready?”  
“Ready.”  
Bernie made the incision. “Suction please.” She peered into the cavity. The space filled with blood and the monitor bleeped.  
“More suction. Ah, I see. Look Serena, it’s coming from the splenic artery. Over to you.”  
Serena worked quickly and deftly to repair the torn artery. With the bleeding under control Bernie turned her attention to the necrotic splenal tissue.   
“As I thought,” she said. “If this poor girl had waited any longer there would have been too little spleen left to work properly and she would have been on medication for the rest of her life.”  
“Her blood pressure is falling!” the anaesthetist warned.  
“Damm,” exclaimed Bernie, “there is a tear quite low down.” The tension in the theatre was palpable. “I can’t get a clip on it Serena!”  
“Yes you can.” Serena’s voice was calm. She held Bernie’s eyes.”Try again.”  
She held her breath. “Done it!” Bernie’s voice was triumphant. The bleeping stopped and a ripple of applause went around the theatre. Bernie smiled.  
“Who’s going to close Serena. Shall we toss for it?”  
“Half and half?  
“You’re on.”  
#  
“I certainly didn’t expect to be performing surgery today!” Serena exclaimed as they sat nursing large coffee cups in the hospital cafeteria.   
“Thanks Serena. I thought you might refuse.” Serena laid her hand on Bernie’s.   
“You made the right call. Shall we go and see Suzie? She should be awake by now.”  
Suzie was awake, though still drowsy and unable to speak due to the bruising that the tracheometry tube had caused. She smiled however when the pair approached her bed. Adrian was sitting with her, holding her small hand tenderly.   
“Thankyou so much,” he said.  
“Well I hope there are no repercussions,” Serena replied, “I mean, it isn’t common practice to hi-jack a patient and whisk them off for surgery. Not in England at any rate.”  
“I’m sure that there won’t be repercussions,” Adrian assured her. “My name is Adrian Tam. My father is CEO at Glan Usk. I understand from the sister-in-charge that you two are the new trauma specialists there. I suspect that he won’t want any attention drawn to the matter of a shortage of surgeons in the public hospitals because of the increasingly high salaries offered by the private clinics.”   
Bernie flushed slightly. “That makes me feel rather guilty.”  
“Don’t,” said Adrian. “Private hospitals are an integral part of the healthcare system here. When the trauma unit at Glan Usk is up and running it will accept emergency admissions at the standard emergency fee of HK$180 so that will relieve the pressure on the public hospitals. No, the problem lies with the public hospital not matching the salaries of the private sector.”  
“I can see that,” said Serena. “I also sense that you and your father disagree over something other than private medicine.”  
Adrian stroked Suzie’s forehead gently before replying,  
“Suzie is my girlfriend. My parents disapprove. They were brought up in Hong Kong when it was under British rule. My father was sent away to school in England, went to university there, the LSE. I was privately educated at the International School here in Hong Kong. They intended that I would study in the UK or the USA but I chose to stay here. That’s how I met Suzie. She is in her first year. She is from a small town in the New Territories. My parents would rather I dated a well-off girl from The Peaks. But we can’t help who we fall in love with, can we?”  
“We certainly can’t,” said Serena, slipping her hand into Bernie’s. 

#  
“It’s not easy, is it knowing when to stick to one’s principles and when to let things go,” remarked Serena later as they curled up together on the bed. The credits of the film they been watching rolled.  
“No, it’s not always,” agreed Bernie. She hummed a few snatches of the film’s title song.  
“I was wrong yesterday,” continued Serena, “and you were right. Refusing to work at Glan Usk isn’t going to change anyone’s attitude towards us, is it?” Bernie kissed her by way of reply. Running one hand down Serena’s back she grabbed the remote and switched off the TV screen which flickered on the wall. The room darkened. Serena reached out and switched on the bedside lamp, the better to see Bernie’s face as she rolled on top of her and stroked her hair. “Love certainly is a many splendoured thing,” Bernie whispered, "and you are the most splendid woman in the world, Serena Campbell.”


	4. All I want for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Serena have come to the end of their short term contract at the Glan Usk Hospital, Hong Kong.The opportunity to work together again has brought them even closer, sealed their commitment to one another and satisfied Bernie's wanderlust. All they want now is to get home to Colin, Tom and Bernie's sheep in time for Christmas. But the best laid plans, as they say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had to bring our lovely surgeons back to Wales. In my head it's where they will stay. Happy Christmas.

“Let us raise a glass to your very good health.” Dr Christopher Lam beamed at Serena Campbell l and Bernie Wolfe. “Thankyou for all the hard you have put into establishing the trauma unit.”  
Bernie and Serena were dining at Maxim’s Jade Garden, Hong Kong International Airport, with Dr Lam and his wife before boarding their flight to Holby City, their short-term contract at Glan Usk Hospital having come to an end. With luck, no flight delays and a clear roads they planned to be in Wales in time to celebrate Christmas together in their Black Mountain farmhouse.  
“Thankyou for all your support,” responded Serena. “We would be delighted to see you if you ever visit the UK.”  
Bernie looked at her watch. “Sorry to break up the party but I think we should be on our way to check-in soon,” she said. “It might take a while to get through security.”  
“You go,” Dr Lam told them. “You don’t want to miss your flight and spend Christmas at the airport. I’ll settle the bill. Off you go.”  
Final goodbyes were said. Bernie strode across the terminal hall towards Departures, Serena keeping up with her with shorter faster steps.  
“I hate this bit,” Bernie complained.”It always seems to me that they change the rules each time I fly.”  
“It’s take off and landings I hate,” said Serena. “They’re the most dangerous parts of a flight aren’t they?”  
“Yes, but the percentage of accidents is tiny. Far less likely than a motorway collision.”  
#  
Fourteen hours later Cathay Pacific flight number 6774 descended through the cloud cover into the grey British sky.   
“It seems that we are on schedule,” Bernie said. “We should be home by late afternoon. Roger has organised the supermarket delivery to left in the porch.”  
“You did remember to put chocolate brazils on the order?”  
“Of course darling. And Black Bomber cheese and plenty of Shiraz. She took hold of Serena’s hand. “After the humid heat of Hong Kong I’m really looking forward to pulling on my woolly socks and snuggling under a blanket with you in front of the wood burner.”   
The plane banked. Bernie craned her neck to catch the first glimpse of the miniature houses of Holby. So many times she had experienced feeling of dread at this sight, gearing herself up for confrontation with Marcus, a strained reunion with the children and in more recent terms an emotionally charged meeting with Serena.   
In four years she and Serena had managed one Christmas together; a Christmas tinged with sadness, in France, while Serena was taking a sabbatical after losing her daughter Elinor.  
This year, after their three months in Hong Kong, they were looking forward to their very first Christmas as a married couple in their home in the foothills of the Black Mountains. Bernie had insisted that they flew home as soon as they were able; the eight hour time difference meant that they could leave Hong Kong early on Christmas Eve and still be back in Wales before Midnight struck, heralding the dawn of Christmas Day.   
She was pulled out of her reverie by their pilot announcing the final descent. The sound of   
the engine’s changed pitch as they were thrust into reverse. Serena gripped her hand; Bernie squeezed it for reassurance. She swallowed to unblock her ears, turned to Serena to whisper,   
“We’ll be down soon.”  
The plane hit the runway with a resounding thud. Both Bernie and Serena readied themselves for the propulsion forward of the aircraft as it slowed. The expected decrease in speed was not happening. Airport buildings flashed by in a blur. Bernie squeezed Serena’s hand more tightly.  
“This is your pilot speaking. Adopt brace position,” the voice conveyed some urgency.   
“I love you,” Bernie said hurriedly. Serena closed her eyes and waited for whatever was to come.  
The sound of the impact was unimaginably loud and long, echoing long after the plane had come to a standstill. Serena did not remember the moment of impact. She assumed she had blacked out. Her last memory was of Bernie’s declaration. Her next was the feeling of cold, fresh air, the smell of burning rubber and the panicked voices of fellow passengers. She gradually became aware of a pain in her shoulder and rotated it experimentally. Relieved to find that she could indeed move, if with some discomfort, and feeling no other pain, she opened her eyes tentatively.   
She was still in her seat, although at an odd angle. She turned to look at Bernie, who had occupied the window seat; Bernie was no longer there. Where her seat had been was a gaping hole, shattered glass and the jagged edge of fuselage. The window seats before and aft had been similarly ripped out. Around her people were pushing towards the escape chute. Serena struggled to unlock her safety belt and stood on unsteady legs. What happened to Bernie?  
#   
The impact and its impact caused Major Bernie Wolfe’s worst memories to resurface. Lying on the tarmac, several metres from the broken fuselage she heard the screams, smelt the burning rubber as she had so many times in Basra, Baghdad and Nairobi; that final explosion in Nairobi and her subsequent kidnapping was the one that had finally ended her love affair with the army. She covered her ears to shut out the noise but to no avail for it was inside her head that the worst noise was emanating; the sound of explosives, machine gun fire and rough voices in a foreign tongue. She felt clammy and nauseous and her breathing came in short, sallow bursts.   
From deep inside the voice of reason sounded. “Get a grip woman. This isn’t Nairobi and you are not about to be captured.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and took slow, measured breaths in order to steady her breathing. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and felt congealed blood. She felt her head tentatively; wherever the wound was, the bleeding seemed to have stemmed. She stood up on unsteady legs and surveyed the scene. Several emergency vehicles were on the scene, the crews issuing orders, directing the walking wounded to a building beside the runway, tending the more seriously injured on the runway. A cold fear gripped Bernie. She tapped her bottom and felt the outline of her phone in back pockets of her jeans. The other pocket held her wallet and passport, thank goodness. Serena laughed at her for never carrying a handbag but it was a habit she had got out off while in the army, instead keeping vital longings safe on her person. She dialled Serena’s phone only be told that this person’s phone was switched off. She jabbed out a text, “Where are you? B.”   
#  
Once safely down the chute Serena pulled on her boots and took a few steps. It seemed a miracle that she had no obvious injuries other than her shoulder. She was worried sick as to Bernie’s whereabouts; she made her way across the tarmac scanning the throng. By now several fire and ambulance crews were on the scene. Serena approached the nearest pair of paramedics. Between them lay a young man, clearly severely injured. Despite her fears for Bernie’s safety Serena found her doctor’s instinct taking precedence over the need to find her soul mate  
“I’m a surgeon,” she said briskly. “A trauma surgeon.”  
“Thank goodness for that,” the paramedic replied. “We’ve got a guy here with a shard of fuselage embedded in his thigh. From the amount of blood I think it has sliced the femoral artery.”  
“Let me in” She looked at the injury and made a decision. “Can I have sutures please? I’m going to suture around it to hold it in place until he gets into theatre. If it is removed or dislodged before then he’ll bleed out.” She put her own fears to the back of her mind and got on with what she did best.   
#  
Meanwhile Bernie pushed her way through the traumatised crowd. The emergency services appeared to be triaging the passengers efficiently. Those able to walk to the terminal building where an emergency room had been set up were making their way; those needing medical attention had been given foil blankets and were assembled on one side of the run way awaiting attention. Bernie was making her way to this group when she saw a fire crew grouped around the tail of the fuselage which had been torn off and upended. They appeared to be wrestling with cutting equipment. Bernie ran across the tarmac.  
“What have we got here? I’m a trauma surgeon.”  
“We’ve got a young woman trapped under a seat. The roof has collapsed on top. It’s her leg that is pinioned.”  
Bernie peered up into the fuselage. The young woman was pale and barely conscious. “Let me get to her,” she said. Bernie climbed up and wriggled through a small gap into the cabin.  
“Hello,” she said, “I’m Bernie. I’m a doctor.”  
“I’m Maria.”  
“Okay Maria. I’m just going to check you over.”  
“My baby, just save my baby.”  
“Baby?” Bernie looked around. Are you pregnant Maria, or is there a baby with you?”  
“My baby, Joshua!” Bernie lay flat on her stomach. Through the wreckage of the seat, further down the aisle she could see what appeared to be a carry-on child’s car seat. She crawled through the debris and lifted upturned seat, heart in mouth. To her surprise the baby looked at her in surprise and began to cry. He appeared unharmed, though Bernie suspected that he was wet, hungry and frightened. She crawled back to Maria. “Joshua is fine,” she reassured Maria. There was no response. She felt Maria’s pulse which was barely detectable. “We need to get her out now,” she called out to the fire crew above the sound of the metal saw. Bernie looked at Maria’s mangled leg which was holding her captive beneath the seat. The baby began to cry. She needed to make a decision. “Maria,” she said, though she wasn’t sure that Maria could hear. “I’m afraid that the damage to your leg is so great the chances of saving it are minimal. You are losing blood; your heart rate is dangerously low. If I amputate we now can get you out of here and into hospital. Can I do that?”  
She wasn’t sure that Maria heard or understood. The she felt the slight pressure of Maria’s hand. “Give me morphine and a saw, and a dressing,” she called down to the crew on the ground.   
At that moment she wished both Alex, the best anaesthetist she had ever worked with, was with her, or Serena, with whom she could achieve anything. As it was, Maria was her responsibility and hers alone. She drew the morphine syringe from its packing. “Okay Maria,” she whispered. “You’ll be fine. Just trust me.”   
#  
Serena sat on the edge of the runway and wished she still smoked. Much as she castigated Bernie for still having the occasional cigarette, right now she, Serena, could do with the calming effect of nicotine. The scene of the collision was quieter now. Word had got around that there were no fatalities although a large number of passengers with significant injuries had been taken to either Holby or St James’ Hospital.   
Having triaged and treated those who could be dealt with at the scene Serena’s thoughts turned to Bernie. If there were no fatalities then she assumed Bernie was alive. But where on earth was she? Was she hurt? Lying unconscious in a hospital cubicle? Having left her bag on the plane Serena was devoid of both money and phone. She stood up. It must have been delayed shock which caused her to tremble so.   
“Come on love, you can’t sit here all night!” It was a young police officer who spoke. Serena bristled at being spoken to as if she was some soft headed old woman. “I beg your pardon,” she said archly. “I’m a trauma surgeon. I’ve been treating patients all afternoon if you must know!”  
“Oh, another one,” the young police officer said laconically. “Was it a surgeons’ convention on the plane?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Serena snapped.   
“Sorry. Bad joke. I only meant that there was another passenger claiming to be a trauma surgeon.”   
“Tall? Blonde hair? If so you are referring to my partner, my wife in fact! Where is she?”  
“Sorry.” The young man was contrite. “If we are talking about the same woman she’s gone off in the ambulance with a patient whose leg she amputated.”  
“She did an amputation? The leg must have been a mess. Which hospital?”  
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure. Look, let’s go into the terminal and ask around.”  
#  
Bernie raced along the familiar corridors of Holby City Hospital alongside the trolley transporting Maria. In her arms she held baby Joshua.   
“Female, age twenty five,” she filled in the waiting medical team. “BKA. SATs 83.Male baby aged six months. Sats good, but hungry and wet.” She passed her bundle into the hands of the waiting paediatrician and watched as Maria was trundles d into a cubicle. She had recognized none of the faces, but it was two years since she had last been here; she had walked in full of joy expecting to fly back to Nairobi with Serena. Instead she had left alone, broken hearted, having broken Serena’s heart. Where was Serena? She knew there had been no fatalities, but Serena could be lying here, or in St James’ badly injured.   
A familiar figure rounded the corner and came along the corridor towards her.  
“Fletch,” she said, “have you seen Serena?” He was bemused.  
“No. Should I have done? What on earth are you doing here?”  
“We were on the plane, coming home from Hong Kong. I had to perform surgery. I’ve lost Serena.”  
Fletch studied her blood caked hair. “I think you need checking over,” he said. “Let’s find you a cubicle and I’ll see what I can find out about Serena.”  
“I’m fine, really Fletch. I just want to get home.”  
“Cubicle. Now.” Unusually for her, Bernie obeyed. She climbed onto the trolley and closed her eyes.”  
#  
Serena nursed the mug of coffee she had been given and sighed. Her shoulder was beginning to hurt, really hurt. Tears picked her eyelids as she thought of the Christmas plans scuppered yet again. She’d wanted this year to be so special, just the two of them hunkered down in Wales after their hectic three months abroad. The wood burner alight, a bottle of Shiraz open, carols on the radio; even though she professed to being strictly atheist, there was something in the message of carols which transcended all creeds and non beliefs. Bernie curled up beside her, Tom the cat on her lap, Colin, Bernie’s Welsh sheep dog, snoring contentedly on the hearth rug. Yet again it seemed that Christmas together was not to be.  
Like Scrooge she saw visions of Christmases past. Four years since that first Christmas with Bernie, both of them working flat out to avoid being with their disapproving children; if she had known it was to be Ellie’s last Christmas, would she have done it differently? The following Christmas she and Bernie had been together, in France, but it had hardly been a Joyeux Noel since Serena was recovering from the breakdown she’d had following Ellie’s death and Bernie was en route to a foreign posting following the closure of the trauma unit at Holby. The following Christmas she had nursed a broken heart following her breakup with Bernie, and last year she had believed Bernie to be dead.   
“Ms Campbell.” She looked up. It was the pubescent police officer. “The amputee we were talking about was taken to Holby. The surgeon who performed the amputation went with her. I’ll give you a lift over there.”  
“Thankyou,” Serena said gratefully.   
#  
Less than a year had passed since she had last walked out of Holby yet it could have been a decade, so much had happened in the interim. She thanked her escort and rushed to the Reception desk. The receptionist was unfamiliar to Serena.   
“I’m looking for a Ms Wolfe,” she garbled, “she came in with a trauma patient.”  
“Just a moment.” The receptionist referred to her computer screen. “Mm,” she said, “she did accompany a patient but it appears that she sustained some injuries herself and has been sent for a CT scan.”  
“A scan? I must find her. Don’t worry; I know the way to radiology.” At that moment Fletch appeared. “Serena,” he greeted her. “Don’t worry, Bernie if alright. I sent her for a CT as a precaution. Come into my office and wait. I’ll go and see what’s happening.”  
#  
The door opened. Serena looked up expecting to see Fletch. Instead it was her nephew, Jason.   
“Auntie Serena what are you doing here? You should be in Hong Kong.”  
“Oh Jason, am I pleased to see you!” Her voice shook. “You don’t look at all well, Auntie Serena. Are you ill? Is that why you are her? Where is Auntie Bernie?”   
Jason sat down beside her. “Fletch told me that you were here. He didn’t say why. I shouldn’t really be sitting down with a patient, that isn’t in my job description. But I think that as you are my Auntie it is alright.”  
She smiled wearily. “Don’t worry Jason, if anyone reprimands you I’ll say that I insisted upon on it.”  
“Alright.” His voice took on a sterner tone. “I think you should explain why you are in Holby instead of Hong Kong and why you didn’t tell me you were coming home. Have you and Auntie Bernie fallen out again?”  
“No Jason but I’ve lost her. Jason there was a runway collision at Holby airport this morning. Surely you heard.”  
“Yes, but there were no fatalities and I wasn’t at work. My shift has only just started. Auntie Serena, were you involved?”   
“It was our flight Jason. We decided not to extend our contracts. I came in with a patient. I had to leave my bag on the plane. I have no money, no phone, no way of contacting Bernie.  
#  
It took Bernie a while to remember where she was. The room was dark, the only light came from the small red bulb in the emergency buzzer beside the bed. At first the panicked, believing that she was still captive, alone, in the Somalian desert. Gradually she regained her senses; that was last year. Since then she had been released, reunited with Serena who had nursed her back to health both physically and emotionally; they were married, on their way home. She was in hospital; she’d had a CT scan and been put into a side ward.   
Where was Serena? She grabbed her phone, searched for messages or missed calls, dialled Serena’s number again, flung the phone down when it went straight to voicemail. “Serena where are?” you said for the umpteenth time. “Call me.”  
“I’ve messed up for Serena again,” she castigated herself. “If there is a wrong decision to be made, I’ll make it. I shouldn’t have left Serena in France to join Medecins Sans Frontieres, I shouldn’t have gone back to Nairobi, I shouldn’t have dragged her out to Hong Kong and I most certainly shouldn’t have booked that particular flight out of Hong Kong.“  
The door opened. It was Fletch.   
“Feeling better after you sleep?” he asked.  
“Yes. Can I go? I need to find Serena?”  
“Your CT scan is clear, the bruising to your head is superficial, the cut isn’t deep, so yes, you are free to go. You’ll find who you are looking for in my office, by the way.”  
“Serena, she’s here? How is she, is she hurt.”  
“Yes, she is here, no, she’s not hurt, just desperately worried about you.”  
Bernie leapt off the bed. “Thanks |Fletch. Happy Christmas.”  
Bernie raced out of the room and along the corridor, flung open the door of Fletch’s office to find Serena admiring pictures of her great-niece Guinevere.  
“Bernie, what have you been up to,” she asked, handing Jason his phone.   
“I think I’ll go now,” Jason said as Bernie took Serena in her arms. “I’m glad you are safe Auntie Bernie.” Neither Bernie nor Serena were aware of him quietly closing the door behind him.   
“I have been so worried,” they said simultaneously.  
“What happened to you? Why didn’t you message?” Bernie asked. “I looked but it chaotic and then I got involved in a rescue. I had to amputate. Afterwards I phoned and texted. I had no idea where you’d gone.”  
“My phone is in my bag on the plane. You can’t carry anything on the chute except shoes. I think I blacked out, I don’t recall the impact, just coming to and seeing a gaping hole where your seat had been. I got out quickly as I could and started looking for you but there was a young chap bleeding from the femoral artery and once I’d dealt with him there were others.”  
They were both speaking quickly. “It’s what we do,” Bernie said resignedly. “What’s the time?”  
“Nine thirty five.”  
“At night?”  
“Yes.”  
“What day is it?”  
“Thursday 24th December.”  
“Christmas Eve. We should be at home in front of the wood burner.”   
“Has it really only been twenty four hours since we left Hong Kong?”  
“It has.”   
“Can we still get home in time for Christmas?” Bernie asked.   
“We are not driving anywhere after the day we have had,” Serena said sensibly, “It would be asking for trouble. I think we need to get a cab back to the airport, find out what has happened to our luggage, arrange a hire car for tomorrow and check into the airport hotel for the night.”  
“Okay,” Bernie agreed. “I’m starving.”   
“Room service,” Serena said decisively. “Sandwiches in bed with champagne. Just for once I’ll pass on the Shiraz.”  
#  
“Oh look, there’s snow on The Beacons” Bernie cried as they left Abergavenney and the spine of mountains came into view. A shaft of sunlight splayed across the mountainsides highlighting the myriad hues of brown and green; the white-capped peaks standing proud against an azure blue sky. Serena pulled into a layby and the pair emerged from the car, breathed in the crisp clear air, their breath vapourizing in the cold. Bernie slipped her hand into Serena’s. “The views from The Peak were amazing, but this is truly beautiful.” She kissed Serena’s cold lips. “Aren’t we lucky to live in such a beautiful place?”  
Thirty minutes later they negotiated the rutted lane leading to the farmhouse. Serena slotted the key into the lock which was surprisingly unlocked. She pushed open the wide door. The wood burner was alight, something rather delicious bubbled on the aga and a bottle of wine was open on the table. An excited dog flung himself at Bernie, hindquarters wagging frenziedly. A rather more languid tabby cat appeared from the hallway. Their friend and neighbour Roger sat in a corner chair.   
“Welcome home M’dears,” he said, getting to his feet. “And a very happy Christmas.”  
Later, in their bed under the eaves with the curtains open to reveal the myriad of stars in the dark sky Bernie took Serena in her arms. “Serena,” she whispered, “if I ever say I want to go anywhere else, please, please, stop me. All I want for the rest of my life is here.”  
“I’ll do my best. Put my wifely foot down as it were. Bernie, I bought a Christmas present for you in Hong Kong. I had it in my bag on the plane. I don’t know what has happened to do it.”  
“It really doesn’t matter,” Bernie crooned. “All I want for Christmas is you.”


End file.
